Yummy!

For decades, elitists around the planet have been goading weak-minded Americans into following their lead.  Whether it is over-priced gas, mail service, organic produce, miniature vehicles, or population densities resembling sardine cans, foreigners have elevated themselves into a position of acme.

 

Of course, our own overly educated, easily-influenced citizenry has proven not to be the deep thinkers they’d like to be.

 

This past year marked another season that happens only every 17-years, the return of the cicadas.  I’ll put that in a title form to help you better digest the gist of this story.  “The Return of the Cicadas” almost sounds like a B-movie starring Christopher Lee.  But it is not.

 

It seems as though nature contains a creature that eerily resembles Nancy Pelosi, replete with bulging eyes and giant wings.  They rise from their underground homes every seventeen years to procreate, and then die.

 

Mouth watering delicacy, and Nancy Pelosi look-alike

These two-inch long creatures make no effort to hide their mission for emerging from their underground sleeping accommodations for just a brief period, during which they molt, re-harden their exoskeleton, mate, and after laying their eggs, pass on to a giant insect Heaven.

 

Seventeen years later, the cycle restarts and we are tormented once again because of the eggs laid by their ancestors..

 

However, the torment doesn’t come from the cicadas themselves; rather it oozes from the media, who appear to be desperately searching for something important on which to report.

 

Forget about hapless President Joseph Robinette Biden, wretched VP Kommie La Harris, COVID-19 lies, out-of-control inflation, soaring interest rates, oil pipeline moratoria, systemic racism fibs, anti-science mask-wearing mandates, fake global climate emergencies, hyping electric vehicles, athletes disrespecting our national flag, dumbing-down our students, and elevating George Floyd to religious icon status, all the media could find on what to report was bugs.

 

I’ve had my share of ants, cockroaches grasshoppers, crickets, bees, flies, gnats, mosquitoes, and other annoying Democrats, over the years.  I found that just a spritz from a can of aerosol insecticide usually does the trick of eliminating many of these common annoyances.  But I digress.

 

But uncreative reporters have resorted to inundating the media, which I usually follow, with inane stories about the 17-year cicada “Brood-X.”

 

This is the granddaddy of cicada appearances during which literally millions of these virtually harmless critters dig their way out of the soil only to loudly chirp, in unison, mocking what I would expect a UFO to sound like.

 

This chirp is a mating call which they hope will lead to a successful “hookup” with an opposite sex cicada.  The opposite sex part is necessary for the Brood-X to make a return visit to the Earth’s surface in another 17-years, you see.

 

In any case, the media has been preoccupied with the way other countries around the world have been handling this same phenomenon.  Now they expect Americans to adopt the practices of Latin America, Asian, and African countries: eat them.

 

Yes, indeed, they want you and me to gather these sex-driven noise-makers up and bring them inside to summarily turn them in a culinary masterpiece, something seen only by the likes of a fellow named Andrew Zimmern. 

 

Zimmern has/had a show on one of those cooking networks that features bizarre “foods” such as leeches, tarantulas, and liver.  As an aside, I’m just kidding about the liver, which I personally enjoy.

 

But with actual headlines such as:  “The Cicadas are Coming.  Let’s Eat Them!” “Earth Notes: Eat More Bugs”  “Can You Eat Cicadas? Yes…”  “You Should Start Eating Bugs.  Here’s How” and “Cicada Pizza…”  Yum.  My mouth is watering as I write.

 

Of course the gist of all this is not to consume cicadas or any other type of bug, rather it is to compare Americans to other nations around the world that are starving because of poor soil, lack of water, non-existent farm machinery, oppressive governments, and state-owned farms whose harvest is largely used for the benefit of their armies.

 

This all plays into the monumental leap of attempting to call America’s lack of consuming bugs, racist.  It’s supposedly racist on our part because we have overcome the trials and tribulations now experienced overseas and otherwise outside the continental United States.

 

So when you hear the anointed talk about recipes for pancrustacean hexapod invertbrates, tell them, “You first!”

Have a Nice Trip

Here’s a fact: I did not watch one-second of the 2020 Summer Olympics.  Some will view this as blasphemy, others as a badge of honor.  I’ll wear the latter with pride.

 

Exasperated, is probably the best way to describe my not watching, and you may already know why.

 

In the events leading up to the Olympics, several potential athletes felt compelled to produce unwanted and unattractive awareness of themselves.  A few protested the American flag – the very flag under which they are participating, one promised to burn the American flag if they won, and several more knelt during the playing of the American National Anthem.

 

While you can’t govern poor taste, you can weed out the malcontents.  The Olympic torch hadn’t been extinguished before some companies decided it may be time to think about the fans as well as the athletes.

 

A business called Subway sells submarine sandwiches that are mediocre, at best.  They sell franchises to the public who then operate them at the behest of Subway corporate headquarters.

 

Subway HQ appeared to have jumped the gun with its advertising and enlisted the USA Women’s Soccer Team to advertise for them.  At least one woman thereon, Megan Rapinoe, an outspoken lesbian with dyed hair, was one of the USA athletes that knelt for the National Anthem.

 

Evidently, she was protesting racism.  In the event you never saw her, she is white.  Not normally being a betting man, I’d wager Rapinoe hasn’t been discriminated against because of her race, ever.

 

Nonetheless, America was subjected to a parade of “woke” self-anointed do-gooder, anti-American types, attempting to explain her child-like shenanigans away for weeks prior to The Games.  And what a poor job they did.

 

I’ll spare you the event details, but the story continues.  Those Subway franchisee owners felt that Rapinoe was a less-than-ideal selection for representing their businesses, and protested to corporate HQ to drive their message home.

 

This morning, over coffee, I heard about President Joseph Robinette Biden’s American troop removal from Afghanistan.  This essentially ended a 20-year occupation of a Middle Eastern toilet.

 

Since 2001, the number of coalition troop deaths in Afghanistan numbers 3,500, with more than 20,000 U.S, soldiers injured.  Our mission there was to exact revenge upon for the September 11, 2001, terrorist attack on United States soil.

 

Once again, I’ll spare you the details of the mechanics of this quagmire.  But I’d like to wade into something very interesting.

 

Code Pink is a Leftist international organization that is opposed to wars.  Period.  So beginning in 2001, Code Pink felt it necessary to badger then-President George W. Bush.  After all, he started that war – kinda.  In fact, he retaliated for the murder of over 3,000 innocent American civilians on 9/11/2001.

 

The mainstream media (MSM) was all over this story, just like they were all over the Rapinoe story, on the subject of hating America and its residents.

 

Code Pink set up a “permanent” booth across the street from The White House to continually remind people about the horror of Bush’s war to prevent another terrorist attack.

 

Biden’s announcement of the U.S. pullout of Afghanistan was done well in advance of his target date of 9/11/2021.  Not an arbitrary date, but rather very specific to his grandstanding to inflict more discomfort on former President Donald Trump.

 

Today we are weeks away from that magic 9/11/2021 number.  And Afghanistan is crumbling.  Biden’s generals are stuttering while attempting to explain away the total collapse of that blood-soaked country.  His press secretary is on vacation, her whereabouts unknown.  Biden, himself, is on vacation in Delaware as well as Camp David.  His Secretary of State is clueless.

 

Potential U.S. citizens from Afghanistan
who will be proud Americans

But the amusing part of all this is the MSM has declared this violent Afghanistan overthrow, somewhat peaceful.  Videos of Afghanis desperately clinging to exiting military planes, an Air Force C-17 cargo jet packed with nearly 500 people over its limit, and indigents pleading for help out of fear of execution, are plastered around the internet.

 

With all this riotous behavior, no one is reminding Americans – all of us – that Rapinoe and her associated whiners, flag disgracing, nation maligning clowns, still have a better life here, much as do Code Pink and its gaggle of irritating women with a perpetual gripe.

 

In Afghanistan, those same people would be stoned, beaten, jailed or executed for such heinous crimes as homosexuality, protesting, and disrespecting their national flag.

 

Here’s my idea: let all those Americans who feel slighted or those hankering to make others aware, move to Afghanistan.  There’s plenty of room there, and I’ll wager, again, you will be welcomed with open arms.  See ya!

Freedom

 
It was the early 1970’s, and Janis Joplin sang a hit song “Me and Bobby McGee.”  A line in that song goes: “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.”

 

That line has been subject to interpretation ever since.  One interpretation of it is “that being free isn’t the most important thing in the world.”

 

Kris Kristofferson, the original author of these lyrics, attempted to show that freedom is a double-edged sword and that you may be free, but it can be painful to be that free…” according to a fellow named Bill Kerr.

 

This is important because Kristofferson actually penned this song and has made his intentions known.  And he may be right about freedom and the pain it brings.

 

As of late the world, in general, America, in particular, has been undergoing a massive and unbelievable upheaval within its varying societies.

 

Largely brought about by Leftist “educators” and biased and slanted parents, our newer generations of replacement world citizens have been attempting to effectively transform any logic of order into absolute chaos.  And boy, have they been successful.

 

With the blink of an eye, America and its solemn institutions – law and order, respect, civility, camaraderie, common sense, religion, unity, and understanding – have been virtually abandoned.

 

Replacing these basics of politeness and graciousness appeared to have happened almost overnight.  Old words were transformed into a new lexicon of public discourse, with terminology such as racist, and woke, and bigot, taking on new meanings prescribed by phony wordsmiths attempting to direct every sentence into a dead end.

 

For decades, the races have been begging for “dialog” about any number of things to include race, poverty, housing, fairness, hiring practices, and simply opportunity.

 

Suddenly, any and all headway made via the much touted dialog was thrown out the proverbial window, not because of anything done by society, but because of perceptions felt by society’s malcontents.

 

I don’t need to go into great detail to point out how our races have divided themselves because of changes in perceptions, based upon lies, tales, and misplaced anger.

 

There’s and old saying by the late politician Lee Atwater that stated: “Perception is more important than reality…if someone perceives it to be true.”  I abbreviated this powerful, often used quote, to demonstrate how damaging something – in this case words – can be in a society that relies upon truth in order to function.

 

That dialog abruptly vanished and was replaced by clever terms such as “black lives matter,” “hands up, don’t shoot,” and “defund the police.”

 

And while that communication sleight-of-hand sounds catchy, it is not practical for society, its people, or continuation of the safety of anyone living therein.

 

The simple minded grabbed onto so many of those bogus sayings to generate substantial anger and only further assisted in dividing a truly cohesive America that was approaching a “color-blind” status.

 

With dialog now effectively shut down by anyone without counterpoints invoking the words “racist,” “bigot,” “misogynist,” “xenophobe,” or “extremist,” each and every attempt at bringing a sense of cohesion and good judgment back into any conversation is moot.

 

I find it difficult to imagine anyone with a modicum of intelligence crying for the dissolution of law enforcement as a means to a safer society.  People have become more and more brazen as of late because of the defund the police movement engineered by the criminal element itself.

 

Of course the unlawful and immoral in our society want our police to vanish.  How else would they be able to freely ply their trades of theft, assault, mayhem, and murder, otherwise?

 

A good look into what the future holds for us is coming into focus before our very eyes.  Shoplifters are stealing goods with impunity, particular ethnic groups are being freely attacked, unsuspecting children are being taught to hate other people because of their race, school board members are having concerned parents arrested during contentious meetings, and United States of America athletes are disrespecting the country they are supposed to be proudly representing.

 

This out-of-control movement is largely being ignored by the mainstream media.  And The Constitution is under attack by rabble rousers from within.

 

Our current situation in America appears to be the definitive translation of Kristofferson’s “Me and Bobby McGee.”

 

Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose, may be a distorted feeling from some anti-Americans, but certainly not all.  Although appearing dire, our situation can still be brought under control and back to “normal.”

 

Don’t allow total strangers to dictate how you should think and behave.  And don’t forget you, too, have the right to a “pursuit of happiness.”  That’s freedom.

 

 

Back to Skool

 
It was just May, and the school year ended; it seemed like only three months ago.  Actually, it was.  August, to me, was the downhill slope of vacation time and the quick approach of another dreadful school year.

 

Family vacations in our modest hometown were rare and short, revolving around the factory maintenance and available money to escape the city for a few days.

 

People who had access to “camps” on forest land or lakes were fortunate enough to be gone, but not the less fortunate such as me, who were subject to making a few dollars mowing lawns, cleaning-up overgrown yards, or even caddying on the municipal golf course.

 

During this dismal time most money we earned through menial tasks was saved, only to be spent come August to purchase pieces of school uniforms that our parochial school required.

 

Our uniforms consisted of charcoal gray slacks, black dress shoes, a white shirt, and plaid tie.  The girls’ uniform was a plaid jumper, white blouse, white sock, and black patent leather shoes.  These combinations were unique to our particular school to differentiate our juvenile delinquents from those of other parochial schools.  But I digress.

 

Those uniform purchases included several of each ensemble to facilitate washing rotations and extra sets in case of playground mishaps.

 

Any additional money went to needed pencils, paper, protractors, colored pencils, pens, and binders.  My parents insisted last year’s book bag was still useable, just as it was from the previous year.  Hint: When purchasing a book bag and lunchbox, choose wisely.

 

I didn’t need to worry about that lunchbox thing because we were flush with brown paper bags, FYI.

 

In any case, as an adult out of elementary school for nearly 50-years, I now find it amazing how and what school supplies are incorporated into children’s lives.

 

Today, we are on the cusp of dutiful television news stations’ annual campaign to instill guilt into the minds of unsuspecting citizens in communities across America.

 

This flood of guilt-to-feel good emotion begins simply enough.  A small advertising blurb mentions how kids will be going back to school and desperately need supplies.  Those supplies include pencils, paper, protractors, colored pencils, pens, and binders, not unlike my list from a half-century ago.

 

The difference is these modern day ads include the need for backpacks, pencil cases, and the latest fashions for both girls and boys.  And of course, those fashions are different from last year’s, and far more expensive.

 

Here’s where the fun begins.

 

If you’d like to reread today’s story anew, please feel free to go back to the top and do so.  You may remember how I worked mowing lawns, cleaning up overgrown yards, and washing smoke-baked walls for local widows, to earn money to buy this same stuff.

 

We didn’t have video games or summer sports camps, rather we had bicycles and local parks, whiffle balls and bats, and imaginations.  Our parents weren’t wealthy, they were hard working.

 

They filled-in the gaps for the money my sister and I needed for our supplies and uniforms, and they did without for themselves until more money was available.

 

Our car – yes, car – singular, was a modest Ford; we couldn’t afford a second car.  There were no SUV’s, and no mention of handouts of any sort.  We bought what we could afford and only that.  Period.

 

Today, kids are raised under an umbrella of privilege expecting only the best and without delay.  Not having to work, kids from ages twelve to twenty-four, and beyond, have little sense of responsibility.  They never held a basic job which teaches a person how to tell time, get along with others, take the initiative, and handle money.

 

I couldn’t find a kid to help me spread 80-bags of mulch, so I hired a 51-year old hungry roofer to do the job.  He needed the cash and was delighted to make a couple of bucks to help with household bills.  At least he knows the mechanics of work and reward.

 

So when these school kids begin making the rounds to sell wrapping paper, overpriced candy, and other crap for their schools, they should not be surprised to hear a resounding “NO!”  They would be wise to read this story for a thorough explanation why.

 

Let their parents fork over some dough for their school supplies instead of buying a giant SUV, or make their kids get odd jobs to gain something called “work ethic.”  That is something even the wealthiest of the wealthy can buy – much like a personality.

 

This year should begin a new era of teaching kids, and parents alike, about how life really works and how to be either a success or a failure.  The choice is yours.  Put the critical race theory material aside and learn how to get along and function in the real world.

 

Otherwise, a terrible disappointment for both parents and their progenies is just over the school horizon.  Then it’s too late.

Olympic Fever

 Once again, I'm recycling another spectacular story from nearly a decade ago that is germane to today's climate.  Please enjoy until my return next week.  And thanks for reading.

Olympic Fever

Not Michael Phelps

Every four years we are deluged by the Olympics.  This year, the summer Olympics are being held in London  and things there are going well for nearly every country except Uzbekistan who, as of this writing, has one bronze medal.

Most folks are into the Olympics, even if they don’t watch other sports such as football, baseball, or other decisive, competitive sports.  I believe this is because people can cheer for their home country which builds nationality, or a as Leftists call it, jingoism.

Patriotism is a good thing.  Feeling part of a winning team, thought, or lifestyle, can be satisfying and can enrapt the viewers while encouraging a sense of belonging.

There are several Eastern Shore area participants in this 2012 Olympics, two of whom are sailors.  Another local participant could be a gymnast but, I’m not sure.  There’s probably a runner in this mix, too.

Running, jumping, swimming, and even basketball, are all sports events that test one’s mettle.  Finishing first requires great skill which comes with practice, coaching, training, and determination, coupled with individual proficiency culminating in a win by finishing first, second, or third, thereby winning a medal.

But, there are those events that are subjective such as diving, balancing on that wooden beam thing, apoplectic tumbling, and that stuff women do with a stick and ribbon.  Judges watch such events and give their best guess as to who the winner is.  What I feel is good, they do not.  Some of these athletes appear to have just arrived from that television show, “You Call That Dancing?”  In no way does doing summersaults to music on a mat reflect a real sport any more than bass fishing does.  Sure, it requires talent and skill, but…

And dressage events seem to require more talent from the horse than the rider, unless the roles are reversed.  Badminton and beach volleyball?  Really?  Where does someone in land-locked countries learn to play beach volleyball?  Golfing is making its debut in 2016.  I’m waiting for beer drinking to be introduced.  Can fruit carving be next?

Gold medals for first, silver for second, and bronze for third place adorn the winners.  It must suck to be fourth.  Still, second place is merely the first loser.

Michael Phelps, the golden boy of the pool, has won a record number of gold medals.  In fact, he has so much gold around his neck, he resembles Mr. T.  Forget his scandal a few years back with that bong in his mouth.  He’s America’s hero. 

Another irritant is the woman who is appearing in her fourth Olympics.  Some quick ciphering makes her roughly 40-years old.  I would think that a country with 350,000,000 people could find another participant who is at least as good to compete in their first event instead of wheeling this woman out on a gurney.

People train from early youth with special coaches in first-rate facilities, for hours on end, year after year.  They are fit, both mentally and physically, and should be the absolute best a country has to offer.  I wish the Americans well and hope the best-of-the-best win their events.  And, so does the federal government.

It seems as though each medal winner gets money from the government.  Gold, silver, and bronze medal recipients get $25,000, $15,000, and $10,000, respectively.  They also get tax bills for the medals themselves, upward of $5,000 each.  That’s a nice way of saying “thanks” from Uncle Sam.

So, I’m not sure what irritates me more:  The fact that “amateur” competitors receive a stipend from the government, or that the powers-that-be tax these athletes who encourage patriotism.

Safe, Again!

 

Clever disguise

This post is a reprint from nearly ten years ago.  Every word is true which makes this story especially frightening.  Please enjoy until I return from vacation.

The FWC has finally captured the most famous, wily, and well-known escapee in the history of Florida – a fellow named Cornelius.

It seems as though Cornelius escaped from captivity and his shrewd ways have kept him free for four years.  Yes, Cornelius has outsmarted the hapless people employed by FWC and now has been remanded to serve his time in a cage.

Cornelius, after all, is a rhesus macaque monkey, and has demonstrated skills eluding those FWC professionals who mostly spend their time doing something mysterious, especially their jobs.

If this sounds a bit harsh, it is because I had an unpleasant encounter with FWC baboons, er, representatives in 2010.  On a road trip to Florida via back then, my sainted wife – who has no sense of humor – asked, on desolate Route 121 in Williston in The Sunshine State, if I had seen the monkey.  I hadn’t, for if I had seen it I would have mentioned it first.

In any case, she apparently thought this primate was waiting on the side of the road – with no broken down vehicle in the vicinity – merely standing there watching the sparse traffic pass.  He didn’t even waved to us.

Upon our arrival at our destination, we mentioned this less-than usual episode and the excitement began.  We were told that this monkey, whose name was not known at that time, was on the lam and that FWC personnel were actively seeking information as to his whereabouts.  This cunning critter was somehow eluding the highly trained, well-equipped FWC by running and climbing real fast, maybe even employing disguises.  On an aside, I find that the eyeglasses, nose, and mustache combination works really well.  But, I digress.

At the behest of our Florida friends and family, I contacted the FWC headquarters to dutifully report this long-awaited sighting.  Things didn’t go well when the first person with whom I spoke had no clue as to what I was referring, although this story had been in the newspaper and on the radio and TV news, for at least a year.

It wasn’t until the fourth transferred phone call and a final berating by FWC personnel – that I had contacted the wrong region – it became clear the FWC phones were possibly manned by primates in cahoots with their freedom-loving comrade.

Yes. It certainly appeared to be a concerted effort to aid and abet this at-large miscreant.

For those reading this outside of Florida, this calculating monkey, who FWC told me they never heard of, even had a Facebook page, and was urged – no lie – to run for the office of Mayor of Tampa.  Locals were feeding him peanuts and cookies and fruit, and helping him hide from FWC folks, who likely couldn’t find water if they fell out of a boat, much less a rhesus macaque monkey.  We Virginia folks refer to this as ‘doing your job.’

As of a few days ago, Floridians have been able to rest safely since Cornelius’ capture.  I can imagine shades of Bonnie and Clyde’s final ride when hearing about this volume of ineptitude that allowed Cornelius to bite a woman on the back, which caught the attention of FWC.  Some Florida hero used a tranquilizer gun to sedate Cornelius, and another person wrestled this unexpectedly large monkey until both tired.

Who published the original ‘be on the look-out’ if they weren’t interested in pursuing this matter is my big question. 

But it seems like a bargain paying those FWC phone answerers with peanuts and cookies and fruit. 

Team Clown

At last, our nation has reached a milestone in fairness, at last.  Maybe.  Almost.  Soon, perhaps.

 

For decades our nation has been slowly evolving into a country of misinformed whiners over many things.  One of those things is the minimum wage.

 

Last time I looked the minimum wage stood at $7.25/hour.  That is not an insignificant amount of money, although as an entry level salary it is better than nothing.

 

People have argued for decades about something they call a “living wage.”  A living wage is an amount of money a person needs to earn in order to live comfortably.  And there are a lot of nebulous words both in and omitted from that sentence designed to equally misinform and confuse.

 

Upon examination, there is no mention about the background of an employee.  Is the hire new to the workforce?  Has the new hire brought a lot of baggage along from a previously-failed job?  Can they actually arrive to work on-time, or at all?

 

Living comfortably is another word salad that is often misconstrued by the reader.  My idea of living comfortably is quite different from Jeff Bezos’ idea.  Is there a career path involved with the work position?  How about health insurance and paid time off?

 

All these must be factored in to the equation when discussing job, particularly minimum wage jobs.

 

My third job was still a minimum wage job which took me far away from home.  There. I needed to find an apartment, acquire transportation, buy food, purchase laundry detergent, buy a 12” black and white television which sat upon a tray table, and purchase enough roach spray to control the population of non-rent-paying critters.

 

If you’re thinking that I don’t know how tough it is to survive under those circumstances, you are clearly mistaken.  But, I’m old.  Minimum wage in days of yore – I’m so old they discontinued my blood type – was a whopping $2.10/hour.

 

The only way I foresaw escaping that treadmill of squalor was to achieve more knowledge through more education and hard work.  Today’s whiners do just that: whine until they get a raise.  For your information, the federal minimum wage will reach $15/hour in a few short years to grease those squeaky wheels.  But I digress.

 

Along with the minimum wage debate is a new element called “social justice.” 

 

Another cloudy term that escapes actual definition, the words “social justice” relies upon the reader’s personal definition of how something should be rather than how it actually is.

 

Pandering politicians, B-list movie actors, has-been athletes, and other publicity whores, are all clamoring for attention aboard the newly-launched social justice train.

 

Once again, something non-existent or altogether insignificant has soared onto the apex of societal tripe, often with the proverbial pot calling the kettle black.

 

“Wokeness” is a term created to help minorities overtake civil conversation and demeanor with riots, looting, and racial animus toward anything and everything non-Black.

 

It’s an old tactic used throughout the world by strong arm dictators and Socialistic and Communistic thugs, alike, for generations.  This time, however, it is different.  It is happening in the United States of America.

 

The less affluent are being goaded into believing they are “owed” more money rather than “earning” more money, that they “deserve” free educations, free health care, free telephones, free housing, and only the best jobs that can be offered.  They have been lied to.

 

If you don’t think so, read on.

 

There’s a fellow named LeBron James.  He’s a basketball player.  He’s Black.  He makes lots of money.  Lots and lots and lots of money.

 

Worth every penny of $162 per second

James’ contract for four years is $153,312,846; that is $38,300,000 per year.  Not good enough?

 

That translates into $467,000 per game played, $117,000/quarter $9,700 per minute, or $162 a second.  Remember the $15/hour minimum wage?

 

It seems a though James has become a powerful voice in the racial injustice movement, saying racial injustice “remains part of everyday life in America and cannot be ignored.”

 

Alas, James is not the stand-up, let’s all rally around group that he likes to make his creepy, racist world appear.  James is all for equal treatment of Blacks, while exhibiting anti-White bias.  How so?

 

His team of racists – largely constituted of extra-tall Blacks – feels it necessary to play those Black players more than their White players.  Of the 17 players on the Lakers, only one can be considered White.  Hardly the diversity Team Clown James espouses at the public microphone.

This sort of selective indignation crosses the border of crocodile tears well into the realm of blatant bigotry.

 

Stop buying into LeBron James’ sordid world of equality.  It’s nothing that applies to the real world.